Too Ordinary

Chapter 1

Have you ever just stopped and appreciated to just be alive? If you haven't, try putting everything down and let the body just relax. At first tension will build but just breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. When ready, breathe in through the nose and let any thoughts build up as well. Pause for a moment and think about how you would normally respond to them. Asking questions to the mind, are these thoughts of worry or stress thoughts, if they are as you exhale let them pass out of your mind. If they aren't breathe out and find a solution. I use this whenever I feel stressed or overwhelmed.

If anyone was watching me they would probably think I was crazy, but I sat there doing this technique. Breath in America is worrying me breath out. I couldn't feel my legs anymore. They had fallen asleep, but I couldn't help it the thoughts of going back to America brought worry and stress to my mind. Which undoubtedly made me anxious and that wasn't like myself at all.

Although, through all my double I sat confidently I sat at this gate watching people pass by either on their phones or rushing to much to go somewhere. One would usually say to a person "They have their nose in a book" or "Their head is in the clouds" well for most of the people I've seen today they were busy on their cellphones, to concerned in what's happening online or determined to be somewhere other than here to pay attention.

Feeling much better about the state I was in I decided to pull out my book from my backpack. The book I was focusing on this time was "Five Feet Apart" and I was on chapter 6. In my own opinion, Stella was such a well written character. She had total control over her life and didn't try to bend any rules. She soon met Will who changed how she lived her life fighting her cystic fibrosis because he also had cystic fibrosis.

Suddenly I felt a small hand touch my hand holding the book. Without thinking I almost jump up and out of my seat and slam my book shut. My eyes wander up and are greeted by a pair of beautiful, deep brown eyes. The small girl had a peculiar smile that seemed almost familiar to me. "Is this gate 43 to America?" The way she formed words along with her accent almost seemed too proper for her age.
She smiled at me and words finally formed, "You are indeed in the right place. New York City is the destination where this plane will arrive." I said with a small laugh. I couldn't tell if I was laughing at my words or how stupid I probably sound to this girl.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" She motioned next to the empty seat next to me and I shake my head. She takes the seat while I grab my book bag and place my book in the bag.

There was a little bit of silence until I decided to break it. "What's your name?" I ask her, hoping to strike up a conversation. I watched as she moved a single piece of hair out of her face.

The rest of her curly black hair was pinned back, it was just that one defiant piece that hung in her face. She then looked at me with these deep brown eyes that happened to glisten when caught in the sunlight. "My name is Anissa," her eyes caught a plane taking off, so we both paused and watched as this plane take off into the air. "Sorry I've never been on a plane before," she continued after a slight pause, "What's your name?"

When I was traveling Europe I would go by the name Charlotte, which isn't actually my real name. All my friends called me Charlee. I pondered whether to say Charlotte or my real name. However, the name slipped from my lips before I could realize what I was saying, "Sofiana, but you can just call me Sofia if you'd like." I haven't heard that name in two years.
She pondered for a second, "I love the name Sofiana." It made me smile because I grew up hating my own name. When I was little all the girls wouldn't talk to me except one because she was the only girl who could actually say Sofiana. Otherwise the snotty girls kept to themselves. However, the boys were very open to being friends with me. Whenever we played games they would just call me Saf instead because it was shorter to say.

I was about to ask her a question I didn't know if I should ask but it happened to slip out. "Anissa why are you going to America?" I ask boldly with inquisition.

"My birth mother lives in America." She simply says and before we can talk anymore we are cut off by the intercom telling everyone to board the plane.

A male voice is heard from a good radius "Now boarding Gate 43." Before I could say anything more to Anissa, she was gone. I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder and walked up to the man taking tickets. I gave him my ticket and I started to board the plane.

The long curving tunnel connecting to the plane brought familiarity to me. The carpeted rug with hues of blues and green almost always look the same and the paneled walls. The last time I had saw this was on my way to France.

"Last call to board Gate 27, to France," I heard the woman's voice saying that as I was running through the airport to find the gate. The only thing on my mind was making it to Europe. There it was Gate 27. What I did next is something I only thought happened in movies but quickly and without thinking I jump a bunch of airport chairs and stop just before the lady collecting tickets, "You made it just in time."